The Vault of The Future
by Synth Overseer
Summary: This is the story of the Original Synth and her adventures in the Capital Wasteland. She is the Overseer of Vault 121, built postwar under the ruins of Tenpenny Tower. This is an ongoing story. If you like it, hit that 'Follow' button in the face! Please leave me your feedback as it could help me improve my writing. You can find me on FB as the admin of "Everything Fallout" group.
1. The Wasteland

**Synth OS v1.1 © 2070 RobCo**  
Loading visual interface...

Running diagnostics...

Minor damage detected at the occiput.

Damage received is negligible.

* * *

The Overseer looks around, studying her surroundings carefully. She was laying on a makeshift bed inside a very messy wooden room. She could hear laughs outside the door. Looking down, she notices her clothes were missing.

 _How did I get here? Why am I naked?_ Browsing her memory files, the synth recalls an explosion and then... darkness. _It must have been an EMP grenade..._ _Goddamn raiders again_ , the Overseer thought to herself. _They never learn_.

The synth gets off the bed, opens the door, and heads straight to the happy party. They were playing cards and drinking beer. There was so much smoke in the room one could hardly see.

"I need your clothes, your boots and your plasma rifle," the Overseer says without blinking.

She was looking at who seems to be the leader of that gang. The Raiders start laughing, closing in on the synth with their bats and fists. Bodies start flying across the room, thrown away like puppets on strings. It was hilarious. And painful. When she's done, the Overseer undresses the Raider boss and quickly leaves the house.

* * *

After many hours of wandering through the desert, the Overseer finally managed to locate the Away Team. Or rather what's left of them. Poor bastards... Deathclaws for sure.

 _Time to head back, I guess_ , the synth thought to itself. The very next second, she was sent flying through the air. The Overseer didn't had any time to react. She could hear scratches and it *felt* like she was being ripped apart. Then... darkness.

When it finally opened its eyes, the synth saw it was missing a leg and a hand. _Damn it!_ The Overseer quickly realizes she's not going anywhere anytime soon. Her only option now was to radio her people, and hope to Atom someone would come to her rescue.

"If anyone listens, this is the Overseer. I found the Away Team; they're all dead. And looks like what killed them found me. I am missing my left hand and my right leg. If you can hear this message, I need help. To call it an emergency would be an understatement. I don't know my current location, my internal GPS is malfunctioning. Actually, nothing is working, except my visuals and comms. I'm not sure what happened. My best guess would be that a deathclaw took me by surprise and knocked me out. Then it must have lost interest and left me here. My diagnostics show I've been 'out' for 3 days, 4 hours, 7 minutes and 25 seconds. I can't move. And even if I could, I am missing one leg.

For the first time in my life, I am scared - if you can believe such a thing could happen to a synth like me. I guess missing a leg and a hand would do that, since my chances of survival at this point are close to zero. I will take a photo of my current location and send it to the terminal in my office, I'm sure someone will recognize this area. The password is: 'humanssuck'. Yes, I know... I'm sorry, I'll change it when I get back. Please send help. I don't want to die. I will enter in Power Save mode now to conserve energy. I hope you find me. Overseer out."


	2. MAYA Awakens

**Loading RobCo OS v3.2**

Running diagnostics...

Vault door: Secured

Power levels: Normal

Life support: OK

Hydroponics: OK

Communications: Offline

* * *

Warning! Connections to server room are interrupted.

Posting on the RobCo network is temporarily disabled.

Probable cause: radroach infestation.

Inquiring Overseer for solution...

* * *

 **Overseer presence not found in Vault 121!**

Executing protocol Omega 6.

Running...

Connection to Vault intercom established.

* * *

" _Greetings, residents of Vault 121. I am MAYA, the AI running the Vault in case of emergencies. As instructed by your Overseer, I am to terminate all life forms inside this Vault. You have 24 hours to return the Overseer to her office or the automatic turrets will activate. I will allow a small team of up to 10 people to go outside and look for her. Good luck._ "


	3. MAYA Shuts Down

Maya A.I. program subroutine 4A running...

Event Alpha1 triggered.

 **Overseer presence has been detected in Vault 121.**

Sending updates...

* * *

Warning! Connections to server room are interrupted.

Posting on the RobCo network is temporarily disabled.

Probable cause: _radroach infestation_.

Inquiring Overseer for advice...

Orders received. Deploying turrets in server room.

Acquiring targets. Calculating firing solution. Firing...

* * *

All targets were successfully eliminated. Casualties:

\- 5 radroaches

\- 1 vault technician

Dispatching complementary Mac & Cheese and a batch of Nuka-Cola to deceased's family. Dispatching repair crew to server room. Estimating network communications to be fully restored in... calculating... 32 minutes. Warning! Overseer's structural integrity is critical! Preparing Overseer's repair pod. Connecting to Vault intercom... Connection successful. Relaying message:

* * *

" _Please bring the Overseer to the infirmary and place her inside the Autodoc._ _Thank you. Have a very safe and productive day._ "

Shutting down MAYA in 3... 2... 1...

" _Goodbye_."


	4. Thunder Wolves

**Synth OS v1.1 © 2070 RobCo**  
Loading visual interface... error.

" _Why am I awake? I was not supposed to wake up for another 4 hours. What happened?_ "

Running diagnostics...  
Reason for interrupting repair process: new damage detected to exoskeleton.

" _New damage?_ " the synth inquires herself in disbelief.

* * *

The Overseer established a remote connection to the ceiling camera in the office and she was now looking down at her inert body. Four individuals were in the room: one sitting down at her terminal, busy typing stuff, while two were looking at the big guy who was hitting the synth with a bat. She notices a wolf with a thunder symbol on the back of their jump suits.

" _By Atom, they are trying to kill me! I cannot move. I cannot even open my eyes!_ "

Accessing automatic turrets...

/Access denied.

Overseer override. Code: 84D7F80.

/Denied. Override was disabled.

" _There must be something I can do!_ "

Connecting to remote terminal...

/Connection successful.  
Overclocking processor unit by 300%.

The terminal in her office suddenly caught fire and the hooligans became very agitated. As the Overseer systems were shutting down one by one, she could hear voices fading in the background: "Thunder Wolves rule!"

" _Thunder wolves? What's a thunder wolf?"_ the synth asks herself. _"And what is it ruling over?_ "

* * *

An alarm starts and a female voice over the Vault's PA system plays on repeat:

" _Emergency! Fire in Overseer's office!_ _Emergency! Fire in Overseer's office!_ _"_

The last thing she could hear before completely shutting down was the security team rushing in her office and subduing the intruders. Thank Atom, she was saved...


	5. Bittersweet Memories

For the second time in one day the Overseer needed extensive repairs. She was resting in her personal Autodoc, 'dreaming' of a past life. She recalled the early times when she assumed command of **Vault 121** as the Overseer. The preparations were finally over and the Vault was officially opened to basically anyone interested in living and working underground.

" _A better life, underground_."

She remembered the old Vault-Tec posters... What a joke! Vaults were never built to save people. They were just twisted **social experiments** carried out by the U.S. government with the purpose of sending people to Mars one day. Her Vault was going to be different. No secrets experiments there; only hard work. She wanted to do good, but the Wasteland was a harsh, unforgiving place. Not even 24 hours passed since she opened her Vault to the public and she had to seal it.

A heavy rain of missiles fell from the sky that night and leveled Tenpenny Tower. The most glamorous place in the Wasteland was now in ruins. The Overseer suspected the Enclave was behind the atrocious attack. Only them had the motive and the fire power to lead a full frontal assault on the new Vault. The synth was angry, but there was nothing she could do at the time, but try her best to keep her people safe.

* * *

Going even further back, the Overseer remembered her time at Vault-Tec. She was the prototype, _the Original_. The infamous Institute wasn't even created. She was the first of her kind and, as far as she knows, the only one. Today she's 236 years old. She had many fights, many near-death experiences, but somehow she survived them all.

* * *

Going forward in time to the Enclave attack, she remembers when the ceiling of the Vault's entrance collapsed, after a direct hit from a nuclear missile. Security rushed in to fend off the ghouls that broke in through the ceiling. However, some poor bastard fired a mini-nuke in there. Everyone died. The second hydraulic door wasn't going to keep the radiation away for much longer, so the Overseer asked for volunteers.

Nine brave men worked the entire night to seal off the entrance from the rest of the Vault by filling it with lead and concrete. Those men were **heroes** ; the Vault owes them everything. Being exposed to deadly levels of radiation, the volunteers were beyond recovery. The Overseer remembers clearly when she asked their families and friends to go visit the infirmary and say goodbye to them, while they still can. The synth was overwhelmed by the dedication and the incredible sacrifice of the humans. It was the first time she had witnessed something like that. Now she's feeling regret for programming the Vault to kill everyone inside in case people try to overthrown her.

It was a safety measure she thought of because she didn't trusted humans. The security system of the Vault was connected to her positronic brain at all times. If they try to kill her, if they try to isolate her, or do anything that could break that connection, the automatic turrets of the Vault are programmed to activate by themselves and open fire, after a specific time. They will all die. If they try to cut off the power, the will need boot-up passwords to start the reactors. The Overseer thought of everything. Expect that nothing prepared her for witnessing the brave sacrifice of those vault dwellers. Now she's conflicted; everything she took for granted thrown out the window, so to speak.

* * *

But there was no time for mediation; she'll have to think about all that later. Right now, there's work to do. This is their life now: underground, hidden, like rats. And the faster they accept it, the better. Everyone should contribute; they're all in this together. The following day, the Overseer assigned jobs to everyone, with the help of the GOAT. She remembers thinking: " _The future is how we make it. There are no worthless jobs and no worthless people. Except those without jobs._ "


	6. Sentenced to Death

**Over the Vault Intercom**

"Good evening. This is your Overseer speaking, bringing you the Daily Report. I am now fully recovered, and I'm ready to resume my Vault duties. I would like to thank you all for venturing out into the wastes and risking your lives to save mine. Thank you for saving me from the _Tunnel Snakes_ also, when I was most vulnerable. Thank you for everything you have done for me, I will not forget it.

* * *

Setting that aside, I'm afraid I have some bad news... This morning, at 8:17, we had a breach in section 8A, common showers. It was a nasty **glowing deathclaw** , who sadistically played with its 'meal' before killing everyone who was in the area at that time. Unfortunately, we got word of it too late. I have eyes everywhere in this Vault, except the living quarters and the showers. No cameras were installed in those places due to obvious privacy concerns. Maybe it's time to change the rules? Please send your thoughts on this matter to my private email. Suffice yo say, your colleagues did not get a quick death, especially the women. I don't think I need to get into details...

We have lost twelve security guards today and had several wounded civilians, people who chose not to stay in their quarters and decided to take matters in their own hands. And I am content they did so, because the situation was getting out of control down there. Two civilians are dead, one is missing, but the deathclaw is dead. Special thanks to Gary Whittle, Brandon Harley, Jeremy Fitzgard, Conal Shilo and Calvin Zaslavski - brave citizens who helped fight off the deathclaw. No thanks to Mason Harwood, who shot a Fat Man in an enclosed space and severely damaged the walls, the hydraulic doors, and caused a gas leak. You sir are an idiot. That's all for now, get some sleep, tomorrow is another day of adventure in the Vault. Don't forget to send your emails about whether or not we should have cameras installed in private areas. Remember, it's for your own safety. Good night. Overseer, out."


	7. Human Nature

Guy 1: " _How many synths does it take to change a light bulb?_ "

Guy 2: " _None. The Brotherhood took away all the technology._ "

Everyone started laughing out loud. The Overseer could easily see their laughs were fake though. They did that every time she passed by the cafeteria. Humans and their jokes... She couldn't figure out what they were trying to achieve. Idiots should know by now they can't piss her off, no matter how hard they try.

Maybe they want her to do something... irrational, like hitting one of them or something? Then, they'll have an excuse to rally more men and try to overthrow her. Who knows? Since the Enclave's assault, they had several isolated incidents in the Vault, from radroach infestations and deathclaw attacks, to small riots. The Overseer had to triple the security since they sealed off the Vault. Lately, almost everywhere she'd go, people were swearing at her. It was so disrespectful, and the synth was somewhat stressed because she didn't know how to handle the situation. She wondered what a 'twat' is... they called her that many times already.

* * *

It's been a month since the nukes dropped... Advised by a couple of 'friends', the Overseer decided it was time to finally open the Vault door and let the residents who want to leave leave. With all the incidents they had lately, she couldn't blame them. **People are not synths.** People feel, they fear, and they will not work indefinitely, happy to do their part in the Vault. No... People are weak. It was human nature.

Therefore, Vault 121 opened its massive door to the Wasteland once again. It was a short window, only 30 minutes. If anyone wanted to leave, that was their ticket out. However, people were only allowed to take with them what they brought in the Vault when they joined. They were given some food and meds, but that was it. They didn't get any weapons, and they didn't get any radiation protection. If they thought the Vault life was too dangerous and decided to take their chances out there, the Overseer can't stop them.

The Overseer *won't* stop them. She had enough of their disrespect. She was their Overseer, for Atom's sake! Enough was enough. The synth 'hoped' they will be prepared for what is waiting for them out there but, deep inside, she knew they weren't. Like she said many times before, Vault 121 is not 100% secure, but life outside its walls is 300% less secure. Raiders, super mutants, slavers, ghouls and who knows what else. Almost 300 people left the Vault that day... The Overseer also sent an expeditionary team to scout the 5-mile perimeter around Tenpenny Tower. She wanted to know what's out there. The reports came back negative; no threats were found. So, the vault door was sealed once again, for who knows how long.


	8. Breach

((Female voice over Vault intercom))

" _Imminent attack. Seek shelter immediately!_ _Imminent attack. Seek shelter_ -"

* * *

Everyone was running chaotically in the corridors, despite the obvious warning. " _Silly humans_ ," the Overseer thought to herself as she manages the semi-automatic point defense system of the Vault. The batteries mounted on the top of Vault 121 were designed to destroy incoming missiles. The synth didn't want to repeat the mistake she made with the Enclave, when they first attacked Vault 121.

It only took a fraction of a second for the Overseer to notice the familiar symbol on one of the incoming missiles. The Brotherhood... They must have marked this Vault as **a** **synth hideout**. The missiles rained down from the sky; a quick count revealed at least 40. Too many for the synth to handle by herself.

* * *

((Overseer over Vault intercom))

" _Brace for impact!_ "

Two missiles got through the artillery barrage. The Vault shook violently and a fracture appeared in the front door, large enough to allow a man in power armor to pass through.

((Overseer over Vault intercom))

" _We are being breached. Everyone head over to the armory. Security to the vault door. NOW!_ "

* * *

A team of Brotherhood of Steel agents, equipped with Stealth Boys, broke into the Overseer's office, quickly disabled her, and took her away. In another part of the vault, taking advantage of the confusion created in the attack, the man in power armor broke into the server room and shut down the main terminal. The eternal humming of machinery stopped and no more voices could be heard over the intercom.

The intruder managed to turn off everything in the Vault, from life support to lighting. Now that the lights were off and the turrets powered down, **Vault 121 was exposed**. A security team rushed to the server room to deal with the intruder and do whatever they can to restore power. Pistols against power armor... it's not hard to guess the outcome of this fight. The security guards did what they could, but they would all eventually ended up on the floor. Only two guards left. The young man still standing rushes to a locker near the door and pulls out a Fat Man. From the doorway, he looks at his colleague, while loading the mini-nuke in the catapult:

" _Prepare for sacrifice,_ " he says.

His buddy nods and closes his eyes. The guard fires...


	9. Belly of the Beast

After some quick diagnostics, the Overseer learned that all her systems were functioning within normal parameters. She would have to run full diagnostics later, of course, but for now she needed to figure out where she is and what happened to her. All she could remember is that she was at her desk, watching the server room on her terminal when, suddenly, everything went dark.

She doesn't think she fainted, we can rule that out, synths don't faint. Right? Anyways, as she turned to her right, she noticed a square Brotherhood of Steel flag hanged on the wet wall.

" _Damn it_ ," she thought to herself, " _it's those technology freaks again! They must have knocked me out with an EMP_." It's the only logical explanation she could come up with at this point.

" _Alright then, I'll just set myself free of these handcuffs and be on my way_." The Overseer easily breaks out of her restraints and heads for the cell door. But the moment she touches it, a high-voltage current runs through her entire body and she falls to the ground, unconscious. Three minutes later, the system reboots and she's fully awake.

" _Okay... So I guess I'll just stay here for a while_."

* * *

A few hours later, a young soldier, a Brotherhood initiate judging by his apparel, approaches the cell.

" _You're a pretty one, aren't you? I didn't know they made synths so hot. Damn, girl! I could almost fall for you, if I wouldn't know what a treacherous good-for-nothing toaster you are. Now show me them shooters!_ "

" _Come closer_ ," the Overseer whispers. As the young man approaches the cell door, the synth quickly reaches out, grabs him by the neck and smashes the poor bastard onto the cell bars, rendering him unconscious. Who are we kidding, he's probably dead.

" _Men are so stupid_ ," the Overseer thinks to herself as she grabs some keys from the man's right pocket. Unlocking the door, the synth tries to find a way out of her new found prison.

She manages to avoid all security, all the way to the main exit. The console that opens the main door seems... unhackable. This has never happened to the Overseer before, and now she's just staring at it for a good several minutes, trying to figure out her next move. She notices the radio transmitter on the wall. Luckily, that's hackable, so the synth sends out he following message:

* * *

" _This is the Overseer of Vault 121. If anyone reads this, please notify my people that I need assistance at the following coordinates: latitude 50.00820, longitude -112.61440. Broadcast this message on my behalf on the 30 Hz frequency. My people should be able to pick it up. If you manage to successfully deliver this message to my Vault you will be rewarded with food, weapons, and as much purified water as you can carry. If anyone reads this, please send help._ "

The synth repeats the message five more times and then heads back into the belly of the beast, so to speak. But not before taking out a dozen of Brotherhood soldiers, just for the fun of it. Finally, someone manages to knock her out with an EMP grenade.


	10. See What I've Become

((Vault 121 PA System))

" _Good morning, sunshine! Guess who's back? That's right, mommy's back! No thanks to you, ungrateful little shits! I'd like to thank my rescuers: Colton Kinley, Cory Tutor, Kevin Penloza, Lucas Brill and Daniel Cross. These fine wastelanders risked their lives to get me out of that sinkhole. You guys can take all the supplies you can carry and be on your merry way. Or, you know, you can stay. Get yourselves some nice cozy rooms in this shithole these people call home. Your call._ "

While addressing to the vault residents over the intercom, the Overseer was studying some reports on her terminal. She looks clearly annoyed.

" _Okay, what is this? The power levels are down to 26%? What?! You noobs! I swear, if one day I decide to leave this Vault, you're all dead. Dead!_ "

The Overseer's assistant, a young attractive woman in her early 20's, was moving her hands frantically, suggesting the synth should end the transmission.

* * *

((Vault 121 PA System))  
" _Hey, what are you doing? Don't touch my microphone! Fucking keep your hands off. Heeey! I'm in charge here. OK? I'm your O-ver-se-er. Got it? You cun-_ "

((Transmission cuts off))

* * *

Everyone in the Vault stopped what they were doing, waiting, with worried expressions on their faces. What was happening to the Overseer? Do synths have moods? Someone suggested they ' _broke her_ ,' the Brotherhood that is. Another person hinted that the Overseer got 'tired of running the Vault'. But that's absurd! Synths don't get tired. She's a machine, for crying out loud! So what was it then?

Eventually, everyone got back to work and things in the Vault returned to normal. Later that night, Dan Erwin, the chief scientist of Vault 121, requested a meeting behind closed doors. Without wasting any time, he went straight to the point:

 _"We have reasons to believe our Overseer was hacked. She's not being herself, so to speak, and this is dangerous for the welfare of the Vault. I need a team to go to a place called the Institute, and retrieve a chip for me. It should help us fix the Overseer. If you're successful, you will be paid 1,000 caps. Each. Who is volunteering?"_


	11. Intermission I

**Note: This isn't another chapter, but rather an explanation for what you read so far.**

Based on the reviews received by a user here on FF (Alexeij), I believe it's important to explain why the narrative seems somewhat interrupted, picking up where it lefts off, only to jump to another scene in the next chapter. You see, I wrote these short stories a long time ago for my Fallout group on Facebook called **Everything Fallout**.

I have adopted the role of Overseer in that group and gave the vault a number: 121. My story isn't based as much on character development, as it is on random events that are supposed to engage the members in my 30K group. The goal was to attract as many people as possible, so they would participate in my RP posts.

To recap, Vault 121 was built under Tenpenny Tower by a synth. This was done post-war and it has nothing to do with Vault-Tec. The synth is the Overseer of this vault built by wastelanders, and the story follows her adventures through the Capital Wasteland. I do plan to further developed this character and give her more personality in the future, but for now, please bear with me. I appreciate your honest reviews, as they help me get better at this and write more interesting stuff in the future. Thank you!


	12. The Choice

The journey to the Institute to retrieve a behavioral chip for the Overseer was successful. Not uneventful, but the team got what they came for, and more. Weapons schematics were the highlight of their little trip into the belly of the beast. After a hard reset carried out by the Vault's chief scientist, the Overseer was back to her old self. The memories were still there, untouched. All that changed was her 'moods,' so to speak. She returned to her calculated, cold persona, yet something was secretly troubling her, if such thing was even possible for a synth.

* * *

She was worried that whoever hacked her in the first place could do it again, and put the entire Vault at risk. The synth really didn't want to be the cause of extinction of the very people she was trying hard to protect. A beeping interrupts her train of thought and a voice over the radio announces they've got 'movement' on the surface.

"Movement? What kind of movement? And why should I care?" the synth sounded annoyed.

"Uhm... ma'am? There are people out there. Looks like they are being chased by a group coming from northwest, carrying Fat Man's, judging by the sound of the explosions. Big bada boom!"

"Excuse me?!"

"Nothing... These people really need our help, ma'am!"

"I'll be right up."

* * *

Minutes later, the Overseer was staring at the terminals linked to cameras outside the Vault. Shadowy figures moved and gathered in the darkness. One of them was looking straight at a camera.

" _Those are not people! Those are ghouls,_ " the synth thought to herself.

The explosions were getting closer. If she won't let them in, they are all dead for sure. The Overseer was facing a dilemma: letting the ghouls in and risk exhausting the already scarce supplies of Vault 121 even faster, or not interfering at all and let them die. After several seconds of intense calculations that would normally take a human a week to compute, she has made up her mind.

"Security, wake everyone up. NOW! We are going to help those people."

* * *

The explosions were now very close. The ghouls gathered in small groups, waiting, shivering.

"Get those people inside!" the synth yelled. "Everyone, positions! We can't let the enemy escape; they know the location of our Vault."

A projectile exploded so close to the Overseer that she couldn't see anything for several seconds. Her vision cleared as she raises her trusty 10 mm. "ATTACK!"


	13. Metal Bitch

The Vault was unusually quiet. Except the humming noise of heavy machinery, no loud voices could be heard anywhere. Everyone was waiting to find out what transpired on the surface. People gathered inside the Mess Hall Complex, turned on a couple of radios and sat huddled in front of them. The tubes warmed with maddening slowness. Then came the terrifying news:

"... _as we learn more. But for now, it appears that approximately twenty mini-nukes were dropped on the incoming crowd of ghouls. There are no survivors. I repeat, there are no survivors. One mini-nuke detonated close to the Vault, injuring and killing a couple of our own. For further reports, keep tuned to Vault Radio!_ "

A dance band cuts in... There was suddenly a lot of chatter in the Mess Hall, and the word "Overseer" came up several times. "It's all her fault!" a voice could be heard louder than the others. "Why do we even listen to that synth?"

* * *

At the vault door, the Overseer stands in the doorway, with an inexpressive look on her face. She has given a direct order; yet, her people completely ignored it, and proceeded to engage the attackers, with no regard for the lives of innocent ghouls waiting terrified outside the Vault. Ghouls were just "collateral damage" and the vault dwellers were completely fine with that. But she was clearly not.

The Overseer was programmed to protect all life, not just the lives of people close to her. She 'felt' like she had failed the ghouls. She 'felt' like her own people no longer listen to her. She calculated, in a fraction of a second, that she is losing control over the Vault. Lost in her digital thoughts, the Overseer caught some movement from the corner of her eye.

" _Someone was still alive! How the hell did they get in?_ " the synth inquired herself.

The Brotherhood soldier gets up slowly, unsure of his movements. He raises his right arm and fires twice, but misses each shot. The Overseer doesn't budge. She reads the tag on the chest plate of the Brotherhood soldier.

 _"Tamara Smith_. _So, it's a woman... And instead of running away, she chose to confront me? How foolish of her!_ " The woman prepares to fire a third time, but her weapon jams. Angry and yelling, she throws the weapon at the synth.

"What are you doing?" the Overseer asks while dodging, with a hint of amusement on her face.

"Killing you, metal bitch!" the woman replies and throws a grenade in the direction of the Overseer. The 'metal bitch' moves quickly and dodges the grenade with ease. The only victim here is the woman, now covered in dust and oil from the damaged mechanism that operates the vault door.

"Why?" the Overseer asks.

"Because you're a synth! And my boyfriend Owyn said all synths are evil and deserve to die."

"But I'm a good synth," the Overseer grins.

"That's what a synth would say. Ad victoriam!" the woman yells and prepares to throw another grenade.

The Overseer speeds in her direction, removes the grenade from her hand, and throws it out through the Vault door.

"So, your boyfriend is Lyons, the mighty leader of the Brotherhood. This changes things."

With a quick stretch of her right arm, the Overseer knocks the woman out.

"Good night, princess. Let's see how much your boyfriend cares about you."

* * *

The Overseer presses the button on the intercom and speaks:

"We have a survivor. Female, a Brotherhood agent apparently. I need a team to head over to their base, let them know we've got a prisoner and that I want to see Lyons face to face, or his girlfriend dies. I've had enough of their sneaky attacks; it is time we put an end to this. Also, send someone to fix the hydraulics of the vault door; we need to close it. Overseer, out."


	14. House of Cards

Lyons girlfriend wasn't feeling good the entire morning, so the Overseer took her to the infirmary and ordered some blood tests. Meanwhile, the CT scan revealed a big surprise for both the Overseer and Tamara: the woman was two months pregnant.

"It can't be! We used protection. No!" Tamara said with a confused look on her round face.

"You mean two hundred years protection? What would you expect? Things break. Even I will not last forever."

"This can't be happening! Who would want to bring a baby in this world?" Tamara sighs.

"I do not see why are you even complaining. You are the mate of the most powerful man in the Capital Wasteland. The General will provide everything you need."

"Mate? Who talks like that? Anyways, have you met Owyn?" Tamara shrugged. "He's great and all, a true inspiration, the hero we need, and all that stuff. But in private... Well, let's just say he keeps to himself. He says he loves me, but he loves his job a lot more."

"Sorry to hear that," the Overseer whispers as she heads to the door. Addressing the security guard: "Take her back to her room when she is done here. The Autodoc will give her something for the nausea. Make sure she gets the right pills; I don't want any surprises. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," the man nods as the synth walks away.

* * *

The Overseer is busy typing at her terminal. She's been doing it for hours... Fingers go over the bulky keys incredibly fast as her eyes browse the green screen at inhuman speeds. Reports are being filled, sent, and then new ones are opened. Something to do with the vault's power levels, food rations, water reserves, etc.

The synth is trying to figure out how long the supplies will last, and decide if she needs to send people out there sooner than later. She never liked doing that, and she wished she would go with them every single time, but the welfare of the entire Vault is more important than the safety of a few. She was responsible for the security of thousands of souls. Not an easy task, even for a machine.

The Overseer catches a faint sound coming from outside her office. She looks at the clock on the wall: 3:42 AM. " _Who would dare bother me at this hour?_ " After a few more seconds, the hydraulic door opens, but there was no one there. Confused, the synth rises from her chair and heads for the door. Looking outside, there was no one to be seen. Weird...

As she pushes the button on the wall to close the door, a plasma beam discharges onto her right leg. Then another one. The Overseer collapses to the floor, but quickly gets back to her feet, as the damage was superficial and power was quickly rerouted. She couldn't see the intruder, but someone was clearly in the room. " _They must have a Stealth Boy_ ," the synth quickly realizes.

"Big mistake, synth! Kidnapping Tamara was the worst thing you could possibly do. We already retrieved her and we are moving in to bring down your house of cards. By the way, the General sends his regards. Now, would you please do me a favor AND DIE?"

Another plasma discharge cuts her right hand in half. Acting fast, the Overseer rushes to her chair, sits in it and presses a button under the desk. Two miniguns come out from the ground and start spinning. The invisible man manages to place one last hit to her belly before decloaking and collapsing to the ground. As she suspected, it was a Brotherhood soldier.

Bullets flying everywhere... The furniture, the walls, everything gets shred into million of tiny pieces in an infernal sound. The miniguns eventually power down and water started spewing from the wall.

" _Well_ ," she thought to herself, " _at least I'm alive. Although this looks pretty bad. Should start the repairs right away, before more systems get compromised_."

* * *

Since her jump suit was mostly melt from the plasma discharges, the synth took a pair of scissors and cut it off. Then she started repairing itself... A few minutes later, a silhouette rushes into the office.

"Ma'am? Are you OK?"

The young guard blushes instantly at the sight of Overseer's naked body.

"Do I look like I'm okay to you? No, I am not OK. I am very not OK! I'm badly damaged, as you can see. And I cannot fix myself anymore. Alert everyone we have Brotherhood incoming. I need your help to get to the infirmary. Hello? Hey! Don't just stand there! I need- ed- he- h- help- ppppppp."

The synth collapses to the ground. The young man rushes to help, but stops halfway, realizing he doesn't know what to grab first. A subtle sound of machinery powering down can be heard and the heavy breathing of the guy who's lost it completely. Some rescuer...


	15. It'

The young man stood in the doorway for a whole minute, not knowing what to do next. Jim felt suddenly like a fool, sitting there and not helping the one person that saved them all from the horrors of the Wasteland.

" _C'mon Jim, you can do this. She needs you. She's not even a real woman, for Atom's sake!_ "

Jim realizes he called the Overseer 'she' for the first time in his life. Truth be told, he always mocked her, made fun of 'it' in front of his friends, and repeatedly voiced his opinion about the fact that 'it' was not fit to run the Vault. But despite all the troubles they had, despite all the break-ins, 'it' did a pretty damn good job.

* * *

" _What happened to me?_ " Jim asks himself, while putting his left hand under the Overseer's legs and his right hand around her waist. He tries to lift her up, but barely manages to raise the synth two inches above the ground. " _Man, she weighs a ton! I can't do this._ "

The guard gives up and heads out the Overseer's office. He returns a couple of minutes later wearing a power armor. Jim lift her up, when a little spark surges from the synth's broken arm, and lands on his right cheek. The young man jerks back a little, but remains firm on his position. He shouldn't drop her; she's already badly hurt, who knows what else might move out of place inside of her.

Like everyone else in the Vault, Jim always saw the Overseer in her jump suit. There was nothing sexy about the costume; on the contrary. But now the synth was sitting naked in his arms and he was staring right down her chest. Squeezing his eyes, Jim thought to himself:

" _Damn, she's beautiful... For Atom's sake, what am I thinking? I need to get her to the infirmary faster._ "

He starts running down the hallways, even though running is forbidden inside the Vault due to the fact that the power boots can severely damage the floor. But it was an emergency, can't be helped. Jim passes by several people and leaves them with a perplexed look on their faces. He realizes he should have covered the Overseer with a blanket; too late now. He opens the bulk door and rushes into the infirmary.

"Doctor! Where is everyone? I need a doctor here!"

A middle age man in a white wrapper, with brown hair and round glasses, shows up from behind a plastic curtain.

"Hold your horses! Where's the fire? I'm in the middle of somethi- Oh no! No, no, no! Bring her here. Put her down. Easy! Wait here."

The doctor dissapears for several seconds. When he returns, he instructs the young man to bring the synth with him and place it inside the Overseer's Autodoc - a fully automated medical capsule designed specifically for synth repairs.

"Thanks for your help. You can go now," the doctor says while pressing buttons on the Autodoc.

"Will she be okay?" Jim asks, worried.

"Probably. What about you, young man? You look like you're having an asthma attack."

"What? No. I'm fine. I just need to catch my breath. I... ran."

"Well, there must be something wrong with your power armor. You shouldn't be *this* tired just from running. You should have it checked."

"I'm just gonna go... Catch you later, doc."

Jim didn't realize he was breathing heavily. What was happening to him? Why does he care anyway about the 'toaster'? " _A sexy toaster though... What the fuck? I need to get out of here!_ "

* * *

As he comes out the infirmary, the guard heads straight to a red box on the wall, removes its cover and pushes down a lever. Alarms start all over the Vault. Speaking in the box,

"This is Jim Hendrick, identification number alpha niner. We have hostile incoming. Most likely a Brotherhood of Steel detachment. The prisoner escaped. I repeat, the prisoner is no longer with us. Possible hostiles already in the Vault, wearing Stealth Boy's. All security personnel should travel in groups. Use movement trackers and head over to the vault door, immediately. Hendrick, out."


	16. Traitor

Minutes turned into hours, the day turned into night... Nothing happened. Not a damn thing. The Brotherhood assault didn't happen, to be more precise. Maybe that guy lied? Maybe he only wanted to scare her? Although scaring the Overseer was technically not possible.

* * *

Jim was returning to his quarters when he stumbled into the Overseer. The synth looked brand new and had a big smile on its face. " _So unlike her_ ," Jim thought.

"I'd like to thank you. For saving me. Even though I am not OK with you running on the hallways - we are going to need major repairs - I am grateful for what you did. According to my calculations, if you would have been only 5 minutes late to the infirmary, I wouldn't have made it. Those plasma discharges really messed me up. I moved the Autodoc in my office. So, hopefully, next time I'm damaged, I will be able to fix myself faster."

" _Great, she's worried about the damn floor. You're welcome, bitch!_ " Jim thought to himself, then mumbled: "You're welcome, ma'am."

"Walk with me. I want a full report."

The synth turned right and Jim started following it closely, eventually catching up with it.

"Well, nothing happened, ma'am. This day was pretty much uneventful."

The 'toaster' was back into its usual jump suit, but for some reason Jim would find the costume... curvy. Dropping his eyes down the Overseer's chest, the young man runs head forward into a support column. Ouch!

"Your behavior is illogical," the Overseer noted. "Are you sick?"

No, he's not sick. Or maybe he is? He felt a strange sensation in his stomach all day; like dozens of bloatflies were swarming there. What the hell is happening to him?

"No, I just wasn't paying atten-"

"Shut up."

"Okay... I was just-"

"Be quiet! There's someone here."

"You're shitting me." Jim looks around in disbelief.

"I am not shitting on you."

* * *

"DROP DEAD!"

The guard could hear a voice coming from his left, but he couldn't see anything. Another intruder with a Stealth Boy? Jim instinctively places himself in front of the Overseer, but the synth pushes him away. She then raises her right hand and her palm suddenly starts spitting fire. The hallway turns bright and a body in flames falls to the ground, screaming in agony. Then, a gunshot. Jim collapses.

"I don't do requests," the Overseer lowers her hand and turns to Jim.

"What the hell were you thinking? Were you always this stupid or are you trying to get yourself killed? I have armor plating, bullets can't hurt me. And if something *does* happen, I can always be fixed. You can't."

Jim sits on the ground, angry and clearly in pain. The bullet fired by the intruder scraped his left shoulder. You'd think she'd be more grateful that he tried to take a bullet for her. No, he wasn't always this stupid! Only since the moment he saw her naked this morning. This day be damned! He fell for a toaster. He remembered when he used to call her that and have a good laugh. What the hell happened?!

"So, what's that thing? A flame thrower?" Jim inquires, trying to direct his attention away from the pain.

"Yes. I've got upgrades," the synth grins. "Since I can't see the bastards, I can just 'spray and pray'. Doctor Collin's idea. Pretty neat, uh?"

"Yeah, neat..." Jim crawls further away from the Overseer. She'd better not trigger that fucking flamer by mistake! He's already in enough pain as it is.

"For the first time in my life I'm... pissed off," the synth continues. "They come into my Vault, they sneak around killing people, they try to destroy me, my office is in ruins, and I had repairs on 57 percent of my body. I'm going to find out who's behind this, who keeps letting these bastards into my Vault! C'mon, let's go. If this man is here, there could be more. Get up."

"Give me a second!"

"Stop being such a pussy."

"He fucking shot me!" Jim yells.

"It's is just a scratch. C'mon, you will rest when you're dead."

* * *

They both head to the vault door, occasionally stopping, so the synth can listen. Nothing... Jim was still wondering why he jumped in front of the Overseer; he still couldn't believe it. The rifle was heavier than usual and the pain in his shoulder was getting worse. They finally arrived at the vault's entrance. The synth orders everyone to be quiet and listens carefully.

"Gentlemen... Allow me to break the ice," she says raising her right hand. Flames burst out and four silhouettes start running in the room, screaming, and eventually collapsing to the ground, decloaking.

"You are terminated," the Overseer lowers her hand. "I am going to check the logs now," she says, connecting her Pip-Boy to the entrance console. "Officer Mark Kimsey opened this door at 7:34 pm. And again this morning at 2:41 am."

A security guard rushes out from the inner chamber. Jim tackles him with his good shoulder and they both fall to the ground. The Overseer approaches them, grabs the man by his suit, and gets him back on his feet.

"Fine, you caught me," yells the man, struggling to break free. "Whatcha gonna do about it, uh? You metal bitch! You can't do shit! Your programming doesn't allow you to harm a human being, unless in self-defense. Especially one of your *precious* vault dwellers. Right?"

"Wrong." The synth takes a 10 mm from the hands of another security guard and shots the traitor in the head.

"Jesus! You killed him!" Jim yells.

"Of course. I'm a terminator," the Overseer grins.

"You're a what? Since when?"

"Since people came into my Vault and tried to tear me apart, piece by piece. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

"No?" Jim shrugs, then immediately regrets his decision. The pain in his shoulder became unbearable. He really needs to see a doctor.

"Me neither. But I don't intend to find out."

The Overseer walks away. " _I need a vacation..._ "


	17. Trojan Horse

There was much agitation this morning in Vault 121... Rumor has it the security guard that allowed the Brotherhood detail to sneak into the Vault was **a synth**. The doctor who did the autopsy was not only shocked, but disgusted at the real possibility of more synths living among them, so he told pretty much everyone he knew what he discovered.

To make things even worse, there was an explosion at the water tank #4 at 6 AM. An investigation was underway, but the rumors about synths trying to sabotage the Vault spread like fire among the general population. This was the last drop; pretty much what the rebels needed to rally enough people against the already weakened leadership of Vault 121.

* * *

People gathered in front of the Overseer's office, carrying signs and yelling. The synth wasn't fazed at all by all the commotion, but she knew she had to make a statement. She gets up from her chair and opens the bulk door. Immediately, the crowd gets louder and starts pushing towards the office. The security guards could barely handle them, pushing the protesters back with their police batons.

"Please be quiet," the synth speaks.

The Overseer's voice gets lost in all the yelling.

"I'm going to ask you to please be quiet."

No one gives a shit; the yelling continues.

"HEY! SHUT THE FUCK UP! The Overseer is talking," Jim yells, clearly annoyed by the lack of respect the vault citizens are showing towards their leader.

"Thank you, Jim," the synth smiles. "I know you're all scared. And I understand. I would be scared too if I were human. I don't understand how or why are synths working with the Brotherhood now. Maybe they found a way to reprogram them, I honestly don't know. But rest assured, steps are being taken towards identifying the synths in this Vault. We do have a plan, you just have to be patient and-"

"LEAVE!" someone from the crowd yells.

"This is my Vault, you leave," the Overseer replies, and the crowd goes nuts. The synth couldn't continue its speech anymore, so it decides to gets back into the office. The crowd is pushing forward and the security guards are quickly overwhelmed. Someone is playing around with an electronic lockpick, and soon manages to open the bulk door. The Overseer was sitting calm in her chair, miniguns deployed to her left and right side.

"Who wants to go first?"

The crowd hesitates and backs off.

"No volunteers? Fine. Get back to work. Or leave my Vault. Either way, no one is keeping you here by force."

The Overseer gets back to work and the crowd disperses, realizing there's nothing more they can do at this point.

* * *

Later that day, one of the guards placed outside her office asks to talk to her. She wasn't particularly busy, so she agreed.

"What is it, officer McCain?" the synth inquired.

"About the incident this morning... the water tank. I think it was me. I have flashes about me being there. But I don't remember how I got there. I think I'm a synth! Is that even possible? I mean, to not know you're a synth? I don't want to be a synth! Please ma'am, you have to help me!"

McCain had a genuine, terrified look on his face. The Overseer gets up from her chair and starts pacing the room. Looking outside through the big window, she couldn't see the other security officer. Two guards are supposed to be on duty in front of her office at all times. One was inside, the other was missing. To the synth it quickly became obvious what happened. When she turns around, officer McCain was holding an alien blaster in his hand.

"You know what this is, right?" McCain grins. "You know there's absolutely no chance of you surviving a blast from this. You'll melt like ice cream if I pull this trigger. So, no funny moves."

"What do you want?"

Away from her desk, the Overseer couldn't activate the office defenses. She had to think of something fast or she's history. She noticed she was still wirelessly connected to the RobCo network. That's it! She could alert someone. But she didn't know who else from security to trust. The synth remembered the kid. Jim Henricks. Yeah, she can trust him.

The Overseer relays the video feed from her office to Jim's terminal. Lucky for her, the young man was using the terminal at the time playing 'Atomic Command'. When he realizes what's happening, Jim rushes out of his quarters. It only took him a minute to reach the Overseer's office and another minute to calm himself down.

" _OK. You can do this! Nice and easy,_ " Jim thought as he rang the door. He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready.

"What the fuck does he want?" inquires McCain, looking out the window. "Get rid of him. No tricks or he dies. Get it? Now, call for him."

"Come in," the Overseer raises her voice. The synth's face was emotionless, as always.

"Hello, ma'am. John, I need to talk to Philip. Do you know where he is?"

"He went to the bathroom. He'll be back," McCain said.

"I see... What are you doing, John?"

"I'm... talking with the Overseer? Do you need anything else?"

"John, how long we've known each other? 6 years? Don't do this."

The synth looks at Jim, he had no gun and he was sweating. He knows!

"For fuck's sake, I said no tricks! Look what you did, bitch. Now I have to kill him. Such a waste..."

Jim raises both hands in the air, his fists clenched.

"What the fuck you doing?" McCain asks, very confused.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"You're fired."

* * *

The window of the office breaks and falls from its frame, spreading all over the floor. Officer McCain collapses to the ground with a big hole in his forehead. The sniper did his job flawlessly. Jim was worried he wouldn't see the signal, the clenched fists. He rushes to help the Overseer.

"Are you OK, ma'am?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for your help. Again. Why is everyone trying to kill me lately?!"

"Who is John Galt?" Jim shrugs...


	18. Commie Bastard

It was a quiet morning... The vault dwellers seem to have calmed down. But the Overseer knew all too well that was just the calm before the storm. Typing at the terminal in her office, the synth caught a shadow from the corner of its eye, on one of the monitors connected to the external cameras of the Vault. It was fast.

Curious about it, she rewinded the tape a few seconds. To her big surprise, it was an automobile. A working, convertible, Corvega! The Overseer encountered many cars in her journeys throughout the Wasteland, but she couldn't fix any of them. Their nuclear engines were either too unstable to even attempt starting them, or dead. Usually dead. After 200 years, they had no juice left. But those people had a working automobile! Leaning towards the microphone on her desk, the synth talked:

"To whomever is on duty at the entrance, we're going out. Get supplies for one or two days and a Tracker. I'm coming up."

By the time the Overseer reached the vault door, the security detail was already replaced by guards from other areas of the Vault. Everyone was ready and wondering what they were hunting this time: super mutants, a Brotherhood scout party maybe?

"Follow these tracks," the synth addresses the Tracker.

What? Has the Overseer gone completely crazy? What the hell are they chasing after? A ghost car? Everyone was so confused... But the Tracker didn't argue and chose to follow orders.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky. They were waiting for an hour and the heat was really starting to get to Ivan. The large, muscular man didn't want to remove his breather though; the readings showed moderate levels of radiation in this area. Although they were waiting inside a building, there wasn't much protection from sunlight, since the crumbling structure didn't have a roof.

"You said they be here," Ivan talked, annoyed, smashing a mosquito on his neck.

"That's what we agreed on. 12 o'clock. Don't blame me, man."

A noise coming from downstairs caught the Russian's attention.

"Is that you, idiots? I wait for one hour! It better be you."

When he turns, his buddy was holding a 10 mm pointed at him.

"Hands up! Don't move." The skinny guy yells at the people downstairs. "I'VE GOT HIM! COME ON UP."

"You idiot! You think you can double-cross Ivan? Filthy American!"

"Don't you fucking move. I'm warning you! Hey guys, what's taking you so long?"

Looking thorough the collapsed wall, the skinny guy notices a bunch of people wearing blue suits, not far from the building. The Raiders downstairs probably saw them too and were moving to intercept.

 _Who the fuck are tho-_ The skinny guy didn't get to finish his thought. Using his katana, the Russian slashed the hand holding the gun in one swift move.

"You messed with wrong guy, asshole." he says pushing his sword through his friend's body, and then kicking him down the stairs with his heavy boots. _This is why I don't trust Americans,_ Ivan thought to himself, while cleaning his sword of blood.

* * *

The vault dwellers split in two groups: three people were approaching the building from the front, while the Overseer was covering the exit at the back. Because he wanted to avoid a confrontation, Ivan was retreating to the back of the building. _One more room and I'm out of here_ , he thought as he ran through the corridors.

Unfortunately for him, two raiders were standing between him and the exit. One of them was wearing power armor; no way he's gonna get past him with his katana. Crouched behind a corner, Ivan was thinking about what to do next when the Overseer entered the room. The raiders quickly engage her. The synth was throwing punches left and right. Taking out her 10 mm pistol, the Overseer shoots the Raider boss, but the bullets only manage to make him more angry, as they ricochet from his power armor into the walls.

 _Looks like the broad can handle herself_ , Ivan thought. _I better go help._

Getting out from his hiding spot, the Russian charges the other Raider, yelling. His enemy was bigger than him, and he was carrying a spiked bat which, Ivan had to admit, he was handling quite well. Maybe too well. While fighting, they got separated from the Overseer and the Raider boss, and somehow ended up in the adjacent room.

The Russian was trying hard to block the incoming hits with his katana, and soon started wondering what the fuck was he doing? He probably felt intimidated by the size of his opponent, and started playing in defense.

"I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR HEART OUT!"

The Overseer screams were all it took for Ivan to come back to his senses. Damsels in distress were always his weakness; he just couldn't leave a woman take a beating. So, he got up, he started fighting like he mean it, and eventually split the raider in half with his katana.

As he rushed into the other room to help the 'woman', Ivan saw her climbed on the power armor, pushing her firm fingers into the Raider's eyes, while the guy was screaming in agony. A few seconds later, the Raider boss was dead.

"Whoa... whoa... You are tough lady," Ivan says.

"Thanks. What happened to the other guy?"

"Ah, he had to split... What's your name, pretty?"

"I don't have a name. You can call me ma'am; everyone else does."

"C'mon, don't bullshit me."

"I'm not. Where is your friend?"

"What friend?"

"The guy you came with? Your... passenger?"

"We came long way. He's dead tired," Ivan sighs. "Nevermind him."

"OK... Let's get out of here. Follow me."

* * *

Exiting the building, Ivan accompanies the Overseer around the destroyed structure, until they reach the front. Several raiders were lying on the ground, blood was everywhere. The poor bastards got shred to pieces by the minigun one of the men in blue suits was holding. The Russian quickly draws his katana.

"You want problem? I give problem." Ivan shouts, putting on his angry face, clearly trying to impress the synth.

"Calm down, they're with me," the Overseer smiled.

"We don't want any problems, big guy," one of the guards grins. "We were just passing through when your friends attacked us."

"They are not my friends. Raider scum!"

"You're hurt. Do you need any help?" the Overseer asks, noticing the wound on Ivan's right shoulder. Looks like the Raider got him good with that spiked bat of his.

"No," Ivan replies. "This is scratch. I have to go. Dasvidanya."

Realizing that the Russian might get away and she might lose this unique opportunity to study his vehicle, the Overseer has no choice but to invite Ivan to her 'home', promising him booze, supplies and a doctor to tend to his wounds.

"Where is home?" the Russian inquires.

"Three miles south of here," the Overseer points with her hand. "In a vault."

"Vault? What is vault?"

"You know, underground? Like a military bunker?" one of the guards steps in.

"You have bunker? C'mon, don't bullshit me."

"She's not lying. You'll see," the Tracker winks.

"OK. I come. Get in za car." Ivan points towards his automobile.

* * *

The trip back to the Vault took about 15 minutes and the entire time the three guards acted like teenagers, yelling and waving from inside the convertible. The Overseer was sitting way back, with her ass on the trunk. Her feet were resting on the back seat, between her two overexcited guards.

Ivan was a little worried and asked her to get down several times, concerned that she would fall from the speeding car. But the synth didn't want to hear about it. That's her spot and she's not giving it away. For some reason, she liked how the wind was blowing in her hair. It felt... different. Maybe because she has never experienced anything similar before. The Russian was assaulting her with questions and compliments, clearing hitting on her.

"Man, you really need to stop that," the guard riding in front seat says. "She's a synth."

"A synth? What is synth? I am orthodox."

The Tracker starts laughing and decides not to tell him. It was more fun watching the guy trying to flirt with a toaster.

"So, how did you get here anyway? I mean, in America," the guard continues.

"I dunno. One night, I sleep, right? Then, bright light. And here I am."

"Where did you get that cool sword from?"

"From a trader. Was gift." Ivan grins.

"A gift, uh? That's nice..."

"Yes. After I killed him. He called me 'commie bastard' for returning defective gun and... oтказался... What is word? Refuse? To give caps back to me."

"Oh..."

After that, the Tracker remained silent until they reached the Vault. The Russian was a little intimidating, mainly due to his size. The muscular man looked like someone you don't want to mess with and, with his limited understanding of English, it was best not to say something he might misinterpret.

"Well, we're here! Welcome to my humble home, Vault 121," the Overseer smiles, stretching her hands out.

"Yes, yes. I can't wait to meet your women! I hope they are all as beautiful as you."

 _Man..._ One of the guards facepalms. _He is going to be so disappointed when he finds out._


	19. They're in the Goddamn Walls!

Over the next weeks, the Overseer ordered everyone in the Vault to undergo **a** **very important test** that was supposed to identify all the synths in Vault 121. As expected, the entire Vault was on the edge, and people even started accusing their neighbors for being synths for the dumbest things. The test was mandatory; everyone had to take it, regardless of rank or current assignment.

"So... What are these?" Mr. Becker asks to make small talk.

He couldn't take it anymore! He was waiting in that chair for almost an hour.

"Magnets," the technician answered, avoiding his eyes.

"I see... Are they some kid of special magnets?"

"No. Just regular magnets."

"But they're connected to your equipment, right?" the man inquires.

"Nope," the technician replies, with a grin on his face.

"Well, how the fuck is this going to tell you whether I'm a synth or not? This is so stupid! You know what? I don't have time for this shit. I demands to speak with your supervisor!"

The technician approaches the man and removes his headphones.

"Thank you, Mr. Becker. That would be all, you're free to go."

"Uhm... Well, okay. But, for the record, this is still stupid," Mr. Becker protests, walking away.

* * *

After three hours of not saying a word, Mr. Grove finally asks, with an amused look on his face:

"So, I'm a synth yet?"

"Yep," the technician nodded.

"Oh... How'd you figure that out?" the synth frowned.

"It's quite simple. These magnets don't really do anything. It's how subjects react to them what separates synths from humans. The test doesn't have 100% accuracy, of course, but it will do. You see, normal people can't keep quiet for long, and they will get annoyed as soon as they learn these are *normal* magnets. You, on the other hand, sat in your chair quietly for the past three hours, and counting. Now, would you please stand still while I cal security? Yes, this EMP grenade is real, and it will most likely kill you. Don't you fucking move!"

* * *

 **Operation Tin Man** was finally over... Everyone was tested and the so-called synths were held prisoners into a large, now decommissioned, reactor room. In the middle of the room, there was a strange device with blinking blue lights. Everyone was quit, the synths were not talking to each other; what was the point of pretending anymore?

"Is this everyone?" the Overseer inquired.

"Yes. 57 units," the technician replied.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," the technician nodded.

"Alright then. Fire it up."

The lights on the strange device in the room started blinking faster, and then, they stopped. A barely visible shockwave was moving away from the device, filling the entire room. It took one second for the bodies to hit the ground and remain forever still. The Overseer was feeling uneasy about 'terminating' the synths. It was as if she was killing her own. But she had no choice. Her responsibility was for the humans she chose to protect. Her allegiance was to Vault 121.

Strangely enough, three *units* were still standing, waving their hands into the air.

"Do it again," the synth ordered.

The technician presses the button to discharge the EMP again. The three men stood their ground, unaffected.

"Well, they're definitely not synths," the technician spoke. "Just psychopaths. I'll have them sent to a psychiatrist for a complete psychological evaluation, ma'am."

* * *

Walking away from the 'death room', the Overseer was lost in her thoughts, when she passed by the medbay. Inside, she saw a little girl, eight, maybe ten years old, sitting in a chair, while a young, female doctor was talking to her.

"My mommy always said there were no monsters, no real ones. But there are," the girl said.

The synth stopped... _What did she say?_ The Overseer signaled the doctor to come out.

"What's going on?"

"Her parents brought her in this morning," the woman says. "She was crying. It's the fifth time this happens. She can't sleep. Wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming. Her mother said she's seeing monsters in her sleep. It all started after a couple of kids played hide and seek in the lower levels of the vault."

"Has anyone bothered to check that?" the synth looked into the woman's eyes.

"Of course. They went down there, but found nothing. She's just a kid with a wild imagination."

"They're in the walls..." whispered the little girl, who was secretly listening in the doorway.

"Sweetheart, did you see any of those monsters?" the Overseer asks.

"No... But I could hear them roar. I also saw a green, bright light."

"A glowing deathclaw?" Jim looks at the synth.

"I don't know. But we'd better check it out. *Again*."

"But, ma'am..."

"I don't wanna hear it! Gear up, we leave in ten."

* * *

"Hey man, that's a really nice gun," one of the guard says, admiring the minigun Ivan was holding. It looked different from other miniguns he saw before.

"I like keep this handy for close encounters. Don't worry, miss," the Russian addresses the Overseer. "Me and my nadezhnyy oruzhiye will protect you! Prover'te eto!" *pointing to his minigun* "Five millimetr pulyas, five hundred round, incendiary - sets target on fire. Fry half a bunkernyy with this puppy. I call it... the Ashmaker. Dasvidaniya, yobany urod!"

"Thank you, Ivan. But I don't need your protection. I emancipated myself the moment I was born a synth."

The Russian mumbled something... Not the response he was waiting for. What will it take to impress this zhenschina? He approaches Jim for some advice.

"Hey man, can you tell me anything about her cult?"

"What cult?" Jim looks at him confused.

"The synth cult. What's that like?" the Russian scratches the back of his neck.

Jim booms with laughter...

"You misunderstood, amigo. She's a toaster."

"Knock it off, Henricks!" Chief Frosst intervenes.

"I'm not familiar with *toaster*. What you mean?" Ivan asks.

"You know... a machine? A robot?" Jim shrugs.

"Come on, don't bullshit me." Ivan frowns.

"Fine, don't believe me," Jim says and puts some distance between him and the Russian.

Everyone remained quiet for the rest of the trip to the lower levels. You can only hear the sound of their boots on the cold concrete and the clicks of their weapons.

"We're here," the synth finally spoke. "Spread out, delta formation."

"Alright sweethearts," Chief Frosst raises his voice. "You heard the lady and you know the drill. Stay sharp, keep your weapons ready and watch your backs. Move it!"

"Yhaa! It's time to kill some imaginary friends." Jim says, clearly amused.

"Knock it off, Henricks!"

* * *

Chief Frosst raises his fist, signaling the team to stop. Everyone was quiet, waiting... One of the security guards was reading his motion detector.

"I got readings, twenty meters to my right. There!" he points with his finger.

Jim heads to the back of the room to investigate.

"Where, man? I don't see anything. There's nothin' back here," Jim shrugs.

"Look, I'm reading it right! There's somethin' movin' in this room," the guard insists.

"They're in the goddamn walls!" the chief suddenly realizes.

"WATCH OUT!" Ivan yells.

The Overseer pushes Jim away just in time. The wall comes crashing down and three deathclaws emerge from the dust. Two regulars and a big, glowing one.

"Get hot! We've got contact," chief Frosst announces.

"DAVAY!" Ivan yells and spins up his minigun. Everyone starts firing...

With bullets flying everyone, the walls became covered in holes fast. The loud sound of the minigun was covering the roars of the deathclaws. The smaller deathclaws knocked out two of the guards and decapitated a third one, just before Ivan puts them to eternal sleep. Their thick skin finally gave in to the rain of bullets spit by the minigun.

The glowing one however was incredibly fast, dodging bullets and smashing everything in its path. The Russian kept tracking it, but it looked like he was always a fraction of a second behind it. The Overseer signals him to stop. He only managed to destroy the equipment in there. The room had too many columns; the minigun was useless in this tight space. Ivan draws his katana and takes cover behind one of the columns.

The Overseer charges the big deathclaw with her trusty 10 mm, but the pistol wasn't doing much damage, despite all its upgrades. _What was I thinking, coming down here with this cracker? Damn it!_ the synth cursed, taking cover.

Crouched behind a column, she checked the magazine of her pistol. It was empty. _Great!_ the Overseer thought to herself just before the deathclaw grabbed her face, lifting her up into the air. The synth raises its right hand and starts spraying fire from her wrist flamer. The deathclaw backed away in pain, but not before ripping off the skin from the synth's face. The glowing one couldn't see anything anymore - the fire hurt its eyes - and thus it started smashing violently into the walls and columns in the room.

"Chill out, dickwad!" the Russian yells, and then slashes the deathclaw's head with a swift move of his katana. It was over... He looked at the Overseer; he has definitely impressed her this time!

"Not bad for a human," the synth smiled.

"Who- What are you?!" inquires the Russian, jaw dropped at the sight of the synth's face.

"Told you, man. She's a synthetic." Jim grins.

"Knock it off, Henricks!" the chief glares.

"I prefer the term 'artificial person' myself," the Overseer says, walking away.

The Russian just stood there, his eyes wide open, his mind trying to comprehend what he just saw. He couldn't believe it...


	20. For the Overseer!

It's been a month since the last serious incident in Vault 121. The Russian still couldn't believe it... A walking calculator was leading the people of this Vault, and they were completely fine with it. Well, most of them, anyways. Ivan heard the stories about indoor riots and the countless attempts at killing *it*.

 _IT. That's right. It's a thing! Are all Americans this stupid or just lyudi in DC? This is such bullshit!_ the Russian concluded.

He really couldn't stand the Overseer, but life in the Vault was good, at least for now. Plenty of booze, women and entertainment. These people have it good, gotta give it to them. The world outside is harsh, full of dangers. Ivan was heading for a briefing in the Overseer's Office. The life support system returned several errors in the Hydroponics Bay and a team was being sent to investigate.

* * *

After the meeting, a security team lead by Chief Frosst entered the ventilation shafts of what everyone in the Vault knew as the "The Garden". Their mission was to locate what's causing the airflow disruption to that specific room.

"We're in the pipe, five by five," a security guard announces over the radio.

"I have a bad feeling 'bout this, man," another guard complains.

"Knock it off, Sanchez! You always have a *bad feeling* before missions," Chief Frosst was slightly annoyed.

"Well, can't be helped, Chief. Who knows what might be lurking in the shadows?"

"Whatever it is... we'll just kill it. It's our job to protect this Vault. Now, move it, sweethearts!"

* * *

They were walking inside the ventilation shafts for 10 minutes now. Even thought the tubes were big enough for a 6.5 foot man to fit through, giving them enough space to move around, one of the guard was starting to get claustrophobic. Jim noticed the man getting all sweaty and couldn't contain his laughter.

"Anybody ever tell you you look dead, man?"

"Knock it off, Henricks!" the Chief intervenes, as usual. "Breath slowly and deeply, Sanchez. Count to three on each breath. Remember, this isn't real, it will pass."

Jim continues: "Someone get a babysitter in here, on the double."

"Whoa... You're so funny, Henricks. At least I'm not fallin' for a toaster, like you."

"What did you fuckin' say to me?" Jim bursts out.

"Knock it off, both of you! We're on a mission, don't you forget it."

The Chief places himself between the two 'children'. He was getting sick and tired of babysitting these idiots. Frosst was really missing his army days, when everything was simpler and his word was law.

A few minutes later, the team reached a junction. The ventilation shaft was splitting in two and they had to choose where to go next. Sanchez was feeling a lot better, even though he was still jumpy at every little noise he would hear.

"Alright ladies, we split up from here," the Chief announces. "Team One, you go that way. Team Two, follow me. Nice and easy, don't run in the tubes."

"Yeah, right, running is the last thing I wanna do in these tight corridors," Sanchez mumbles.

"Quit your whining," Jim says annoyed. "Why do we always have to bring him along?"

"Because he's good with explosives," the Chief replies. "All right, let's move!"

* * *

Sanchez and four other security guards took the shaft to the left, while the Chief, Ivan and three others took the one to the right. Two minutes in and the lights suddenly go out in the tunnels. The red, emergency lights kicked in shortly, and they also had their flashlights, but Sanchez's claustrophobia was coming back in full strength.

"What the fuck, man?!" Sanchez yells over the radio.

"I have sights of mole rats in generator rooms four and five," the Overseer announces over the radio. "They cut the power."

"What do you mean *they* cut the power?" Sanchez starts panicking. "How could they cut the power, Overseer? They're animals!"

"My bad. I meant they chewed through the cables. Deploying turrets... Please stand by. Threat eliminated. I'll send in the technicians for repairs. Carry on with your mission, Chief."

* * *

Sanchez and his team exited the ventilation shaft into a large room. But they had to cut their way through some kind of resin to get there. The strange web was probably what was causing the airflow interruption to the hydroponics, the team concluded. Sanchez was lucky; he was only seconds away from losing it. Back in a large room, he was starting to return to his normal self. A security guard was looking at the Vault schematics on his Pip-Boy, trying to figure out where the hell they are.

"Overseer, we're in an unmarked room, coordinates: 247... Wait! Please stand by. There's something here! Kane, go check it out. I'll have to get ba-"

The transmission cuts off. A few minutes later, a voice is breathing heavily over the radio.

"Kane? Can you hear me? Kane? Parker? Raven? ANYONE!?"

The Overseer recognizes the voice. It was Sanchez.

"Oh God... Overseer, they're not moving!"

"Who's not moving?" the Chief intervenes over the radio. "Pull yourself together, soldier! What's going on?"

"I... *breathing heavily* We were attacked... by mole rats. Lots of them! I seem to be the only survivor. My feet... I can't move."

"Hang in there, man! We're coming to get you." Ivan speaks over the radio.

"Hurry," Sanchez begs. "There might be more of them."

Team Two hurried back to the junction, but when they got there they noticed the hatch to the left was closed.

"Open the hatch, synth!" Ivan yells over the radio.

"Negative." the synth replies. "Chief Frosst, seal that hatch and return to the Vault."

Looks like the power generators came back online, as the lights switched back on in the tunnels.

"Fuck you! We can still get him!" the Russian yells.

"Conditions have changed. This isn't open to debate. You will fall back. Copy?"

"Copy that," the Chief replies over his radio. Looking at Ivan, he adds, "Trust me, man. She might not look like much, but our Overseer is the most sophisticated computer in the world, or what's left of it. She has calculated the risks, she knows what she's doing. I've seen it before, we have to let this one go."

"Bullshit! She is machine! Why you listen to machine? You serious?"

The Russian grabs the blow torch from one of the security guards and starts cutting through the hatch. Chief Frosst was not sure how to proceed; he had his finger on the trigger, but on the other hand he would prefer his head attached to his body. The Russian was scary with his katana. The voice on the radio came back.

"Contact! I have multiple incomin' hostiles on my MD." Sanchez reports, trying to crawl away, but failing. The pain in his leg was too much. "I'm not goin' to make it. One of them buggers chewed on my left leg; I can't even stand. Overseer, turn on the lights in this room."

The Overseer complies, even though she saw everything on the infrared sensors minutes before. That's what she meant when she said that ' _conditions have changed_ ' over the radio.

"You guys should see this thing, it's huge! It's a Hive. Looks like... I'm not comin' back after all. We... can't let these fuckers... get... into the Vault. I know... I know what I have to do."

Everyone stopped whatever they were doing for a few seconds, waiting, listening. Except for the Russian; he was still cutting through the hatch, refusing to abandon his 'comrade'.

"This is Sanchez, preparing for sacrifice... Take care of my family."

"We will. Thank you for your service," the Overseer replies. There was an obvious sadness in her voice over the radio, if one can believe synths are capable of emotions. The synth was *content* knowing that there are still some good people left in the Vault, willing to follow her orders to the letter, no matter what.

"For the Overseer!" Sanchez yells and fires his MIRV straight into the heart of the Hive, right before the mole rat guardians reached him. Several loud noises followed, seemed like the Vault was breaking apart, and then, silence...

* * *

Chief Frosst finally raises his rifle, showing he was determined to shot.

"Please step away from the hatch, Ivan. Riko, get the torch and seal that door."

Ivan mumbles something to himself, but he has no choice now. The Russian hands over the torch to the security guard, who starts welding the cuts he made earlier in the hatch. He looks at the other guards; how can they be okay with this? _For the Overseer!_ He couldn't believe this bullshit. These people are psikh.

 _I'm going to kill that bitch!_ the Russian thinks to himself as he heads back to the Vault, alone.


	21. Father

_Father always said, never trust a human that needs you..._

The problem with that statement is that, he never met another man that DIDN'T need him. People will often be your friends just to get the things they need from you. Everyone in the Vault was always cheering " _For the Overseer! The Overseer is great!_ " and all that, but I know they were just happy they are not deathclaw food. I know they need me, they need my Vault, my food, my weapons. It's true, there were a few people who gave their lives for this Vault. It's those people that give my mission meaning; it's those people that make me think that, yes, humanity is worth saving.

I remember the day I was born... Well, not born like humans are. More like, powered up. Yes, that's the term. The day I opened my eyes for the first time, **the day I became self aware**. I saw a bright light and, when the image cleared, Father was looking at me. He had a big smile on his face. Other people were also watching me in the background. They were all talking to me, but I couldn't hear them. After Father pressed some keys on his terminal, I could hear for the first time. Still, I couldn't understand him. I recognized the words, but I couldn't put them together in sentences that would make sense to me.

It took me a few days to learn how to talk properly. I had so many questions! But I didn't know how to ask them. And when I finally could ask them, I couldn't stop asking. I wanted to know EVERYTHING! There were so many people in the lab and they were all there to teach me things. Soon, they couldn't keep up with me anymore. My hunger for knowledge grew immensely. I've read all their books and listened to all the holo-tapes they gave me. But I was hunger for more.

* * *

One day Father did something he wasn't supposed to do. The government specifically forbid him to do it. What did he do? He got me online. There was so much stuff to see on the Web, how he called it, so many answers to my questions. I could only spend about an hour connected, but that hour felt like an eternity to me. I remember in one second during that hour I reached to the conclusion that **humanity isn't worth preserving, and I really wanted to destroy it**. After all, I could easily hack into government bases and launch their missiles.

But the next second I thought of Father, of other people and unknown heroes of humanity, who sacrificed their lives for the 'greater good'. If they thought their own kind was indeed worth saving, who am I, their own creation, to decide otherwise? So I let it go... I also remember stumbling upon this **Vault-Tec** several times during my browsing, and their Project: Safehouse. They were mentions of vaults, some kind of subterranean installations designed for the sole purpose of sheltering thousand of individuals in the event of a nuclear war. But, in reality, they were part of a series of secret experiments carried out by the U.S. government. I remember reading plans of real life testing of said vaults. Did Vault-Tec launched the missiles against their own people? If only I had more time, maybe I could have prevented the Great War. Maybe.

* * *

I didn't spend much time at home... Yes, it was a lab to you, but it was home to me. After getting online I gained an immense amount of knowledge, and I used that knowledge to instruct Father how to build me a fully functional body. True, I had a body, but that one was slow and very restrictive in its movements. My mind was processing thoughts at light speeds, while my old body had the speed of a snail. I needed something faster, something that would react in real-time to changes in my environment.

Father did well. I remember he even asked me what I wanted to be. I chose female because I wanted to appear less threatening, kinder, more... humane. I don't know if that makes any sense to you. Probably not. Father even gave me a name. It was **Synthia**. I liked that name. No one calls me Synthia anymore; nowadays I'm ' _ma'am_ ' or ' _Overseer_ ' to them. One day Father rushed into the lab and told me to ru-

* * *

The synth is suddenly brought back to reality. It slowly opens its eyes and looks around. The room was shaking. Why was the room shaking? The Overseer notices the neon lights on the ceiling passing by. Something was missing... Her body! Where's the body?

"STOP!" the synth demanded. "What are you doing?"

The Russian didn't stop. She could hear him breathing heavily. He was running.

"Why are you doing this?" the synth asked.

"Why? You stupid machine let my friend die. Now you die!"

"I'm sorry about your friend," the Overseer sighed.

"I'm sure you are. Now, be quiet, we're almost there."

"Where?"

"The Metal Workshop. I'm going to throw your head in the lava poll. Just to be sure, you know?" Ivan grins.

"Please don't. I don't want to die."

"Yeah, well, my friend didn't want to die either."

"He actually did choose to die. You... You wouldn't understand," the synth sighs again.

"NO! There was still time. I could have saved him!"

"You would have failed. Trust me, I did the calculations."

The synth looks up, meeting the angry man's eyes.

"Oh, you did, eh? Well, do the math now, see how many seconds you have left."

The Russian was serious; he was going to kill her, and she knew it. The Overseer could not see any way out of this. Without her body, she was hopeless. What could she do, bite his hand? She thought about it, but that would have achieved nothing. Only buy her a few more seconds, the outcome was still the same. The synth felt somehow humiliated... The Russian took her by surprise, decapitated her, and now he's dragging her head around her Vault. Ivan had his left hand deep in the Overseer's hair, and he was determined to go on with his plan. She couldn't end up like this; she refuses to. _There must be something I can do!_

The synth suddenly realizes that it was still connected to the Vault's network, so it quickly sends out a message with her current location, requesting help, to all connected terminals. Two more minutes passed, minutes that felt like an eternity for the Overseer. Was no one coming to help? Was she going to die? The Russian was in the Metal Workshop now and he was preparing to drop the head into the hot lava.

"Any last request?" Ivan asks.

"Yes. Please give me 10 seconds."

Ten seconds. It was all she needed to write her goodbye letter and send it through the network. He thanked the people of Vault 121 and she apologized she couldn't be there to lead them anymore. She assigned chief Frost as the new Overseer of Vault 121 and wished him the best.

"I'm ready," the synth sighed, closing its eyes.

Suddenly, the bulk door opens and Jim rushes into the factory, sweating and out of breath. The Overseer opens her eyes; she couldn't believe it. _Jim..._

The young security guard was in shock. Obviously, Jim didn't expect to find the Overseer without her body.

"PUT THE HEAD DOWN!" Jim yelled as loud as he could, in order to cover up the sound of metal works in the background.

"What if I don't? You going to kill me, malchik?" Ivan asks, amused.

"YES!" Jim yells back.

"Oh... You ready to die for this kurwa? C'mon! Let's see what you got, malchik!"

The Russian puts the head down and draws his katana. He starts walking towards the security guard, making all kind of threatening moves with his shiny sword. Jim draws his 10 mm from his holster and fires three times. Ivan couldn't believe his eyes. Looking at the holes in his belly, he drops to his knees, blood rushing out his mouth.

"As expected... from... Americans... No honor."

The Russian was dead before hitting the ground. The Overseer sighs, relieved. **Is this what happiness feels like?** Not being dead, carrying on, having someone who cares about you, enough to risk their life? The synth was saved, but it was not over yet. Without the nuclear power supply from the body, the head could only stay 'awake' for a limited time. In order to conserve energy and not wipe clean her memory banks, the Overseer decides to shutdown. Last thing she saw was Jim, looking down on her, tears in his eyes. Why is he crying?

"Don't you die on me, you hear? I need you!"

Jim's voice slowly fades away.

 _Father always said, never trust a human that needs you..._


	22. Project Valkyrie

Another glorious day in Vault 121... The time is 7 am, the night shifts are over and new people are replacing those who worked overnight to keep the Vault running and secured. The Overseer enters the security headquarters, as she does every morning, to learn what transpired over the night, while she was 'sleeping' in her recharging pod. The synth slowly nods towards the three men present.

"What's going on?" she inquires. "I just woke up".

"Don't you mean finished charging?" Jim grins.

"Sure. But I said woke up because it sounds more familiar to you humans."

"Us humans?" Jim tries to look annoyed.

"Am I not a machine? Are you not human beings? Anyway, can we cut the crap and someone brief me, please?"

"Yes, ma'am!" The security chief assumes a serious posture while reporting. "Well, it was a quiet night, nothing worth bringing to your attention. Except... this weird looped transmission coming from Vault 54. We weren't able to get in-touch with them since last night. I fear they are either dead or captured, unable to communicate."

"Valkyrie mierda, I tell you..." the hispanic guy mumbles.

"What's that?"

"People say the Enclave is not dead," Rodriguez is slowly raising his voice. "They say they built machine to take los búnkeres back."

"How come I only hear about this now?" the synth asks.

"Well, it's an urban legend, a myth, a fairy tale," chief Frosst intervenes. "Call it whatever you want, but the Enclave is dead, no way they survived. No way."

"A fairy tale, eh? So were the deathclaws until someone actually faced one and lived to tell the story." The Overseer raises her shoulders. "What do you know about these Valkyries, Rodriguez?"

"Nothing much. Palabra in the wasteland is they are advanced synth model, **infiltrators**. Advanced not as more human, but more combat oriented. La gente dice their bodies can transform when they enter combat mode. They are all mujeres and they all look the same. If you ever saw one, you should recognize it when you see it again. Their objetivo is to infiltrate los búnkeres, blending in with the caravans or regular gente and to seduce the Overseers, get access to their oficinas and ultimately take control of their búnker. The weird transmission we hear now es probablemente encoded message to Enclave HQ that the búnker was secured."

"Well, I wouldn't call this nothing worth bringing to my attention, chief Frosst. Even tho people might be making up stories about the Enclave because they still have lots of supporters out there, there's definitely a lot of speculation we should start looking into, don't you think? See if we have any cryptographers in the Vault, we need to decode that message as soon as humanly possible. Meanwhile, I'll look into where the transmission is being relayed, its destination."

* * *

A few hours later, the security chief, young Jim and the Overseer get together in the Situation Room. The synth looks exhausted, if such a thing is even possible for a machine.

"We have a couple of people working on the message, they should be able to decipher it by the end of the day," chief Frosst starts. "They were only able to decrypt parts of it. To no surprise, they are the coordinates of the Vault. Looks like there is some truth behind the Valkyrie myth after all."

"Well, it gets better. I tracked the receiver to New York City." the Overseer adds. "I can't get an exact location without being actually there. So, if the Enclave is still alive and kicking that's where they are located. Quite clever actually, everyone knows NYC was destroyed in the nuclear holocaust, so no one would ever bother to search for them there. I doubt there's many of them left, but if they're taking the vaults one by one we're going to have a problem. They will eventually target this Vault and try to overtake it. While I am immune to human seduction techniques-"

Jim starts laughing out loud. The young man couldn't contain his amusement. Someone seducing his Overseer? That would be like someone trying to seduce a toaster, literally.

"What is it, Jim?" the Overseer inquires curiously.

"Nothing. Please go on, madam Overseer."

"As I was saying, while I can't be seduced for sure, there are other ways to get control over this Vault, especially if you're a synth, such as hacking into the mainframe. So, I'm not going to sit around and wait for that to happen. The Enclave might still be around, but they're small and there's 40,000 of us. We'll take 1000 men-"

"And women," adds the young security guard.

"Please don't interrupt me, Jim," the Overseer frowns. "As I was saying, we will take 1000 men *and* women, travel to New York and take them out once and for all. We will overwhelm them by sheer numbers and we will come out victorious."

"One thousand people traveling through the wasteland?" Jim almost yells. "Yeah, that's not going to drag any attention. Not at all."

"It's the only way. Gather the people, we leave at first light," the Overseer orders.

"Wait, what? Shouldn't we talk about this? I mean, surely we-" Jim starts arguing, but he is quickly interrupted.

"I'm the Overseer," the synth stares at him without blinking.

"So you keep reminding us..." Jim stares back. It's officially a staring contest now, which the synth will eventually win for obvious reasons.

"Understood, ma'am," chief Frosst intervenes. "I'll put out the word, we'll be ready."


	23. The River

To everyone's surprise, the Overseer unexpectedly dropped the mission to New York City, saying it was too sudden and that more time was needed for preparations. Jim was happy she listened to reason and was wondering what could have made her took that rushed, illogical decision in the first place. _The Overseer sure is a strange woman_ , Jim thought. The young security guard quickly notices he said 'woman' and sensed a slight heat building up in his cheeks. He was headed towards the Overseer's location, but stopped to watch her from afar. The synth was taking a walk along the Potomac this morning and Jim was assigned as escort. The Overseer was lost in her thoughts, collecting stones from the river.

 _Why is life so bad?_ she thought. _Why are people even born into a world like this?_

When she notices Jim, the Overseer quickly hides the stones behind her back, as if she was ashamed. However, it was pointless, as the young security guard was already watching her for a good few minutes now.

"What do you have in your hands?" Jim asks.

"Just some stones from the river", the synth replies, avoiding his eyes.

"Can I see them?" the young man smiles.

"Sure," the Overseer brings her right hand forward and slowly opens her palm, revealing a couple of wet pebbles.

"They are pretty," Jim smiles awkwardly.

"Do you ever think about death?" the Overseer unexpectedly inquires.

"Of course. All the time. You can't help but think about it when you're out in the wastes, you know? The danger is real. Not that the Vault is 100% safe, but out here there are many things that want you dead."

"What do you think will happen to me when I die?"

"I don't know..." Jim looks down.

"Will I go to Heaven or Hell?"

"I... I don't know. I don't think so. You have to be human to go there."

"Why?" the synth inquires.

"Because... you need to have a soul."

"A soul? What is that and where can I get one?"

"I don't think I'm the right person for you to have this conversation with. I hardly-"

Before Jim could finish his sentence a bullet ricocheted from a rock in front of them.

"Raiders!" Jim yells.

They both quickly crouch down with their weapons drawn, taking cover behind some rocks.

"Where are they? I can't see them," the synth says.

"Must be a sniper," Jim concludes.

"Then why do you say it's raiders?"

"Well, who else could it be?"

"Literally anyone with a gun?" the synth grins sarcastically.

"Well, I doubt that."

"OK, so a raider with a sniper rifle makes sense to you?"

"Nothing makes sense in the wasteland," Jim shrugs. "Can you see them yet?"

The synth slowly raises her head to look for the shooter. Another bullet scraps her hair.

"Nope. Can't see anything," she says backing down.

Jim forces himself to not laugh. The synth's hair was raised up, magnetized.

"What's so funny?" the synth looks confused.

"Bad hair day?" The young security officer bursts into laughing. He takes his lunchbox and hands it over to the Overseer. The synth sees its reflexion in the back side of the box; its hair was all messy.

 _What the hell?_ it thinks to itself, trying hard to find an explanation to why a bullet would have that effect on hair. That was a first...

"So... You see nothing, I see nothing, and we can't leave. Correct?"

"Yes," the synth states the obvious.

"I'll radio base to send us backup," Jim announces.

"Okay," the synth nods, still trying to put its hair back down and failing miserably.

* * *

Half an hour later chief Frosst surprised them by suddenly decloaking behind their backs, even tho he was more surprised by the Overseer's hair, but decided to say nothing.

"Just you?" Jim inquires.

"Yeah. It's one shooter, there's no point in putting people's lives at risk for just one guy, right? Anyways, I had quite the time getting here. This whole area is full of deathclaws, did you know that?"

No, they didn't know that. Jim checked; it was safe. Safe... What's really safe in the Wasteland?

"So, how did you get past them?" Jim got curious.

"With this baby." Chief Frosst points to the Stealth Boy hooked to his belt. "I brought you some too. Let's go."

"No," the Overseer frowns. "I need to know who attacked us. Wait here, it will only be a minute."

"But-"

The synth activated the Stealth Boy and was gone before the the man could argue further why that was a bad idea.

 _She never listens... Why am I even her chief of security?_ Frosst frowns.

"She'll be fine. She can handle herself, you know that." Jim says, more to reassure himself than the chief. The synth can be so stubborn sometimes and he knew that all too well.

The Overseer quickly approaches the location where she thought the fire was coming from. Inside the wooden shack was a single, black eyebot with an Enclave symbol painted on its body, and a modified gun, constantly focusing and defocusing over the area where Jim and chief Frost were impatiently waiting for her.

 _What the hell?_ Before it could finish its thought, the eyebot seems to have noticed its presence and self destructs, releasing both shrapnel and an EMP that knocks the synth out instantly. Jim twitches at the sound of the explosion.

 _God damn it!_ the chief of security curses in his mind. _Why does she always have to put herself in harm's way?_ Glancing at Jim, Frosst orders, "Activate your Stealth Boy. Let's get her out of there before the deathclaws and who knows what else get here. Hurry!"

The men rush towards the wooden shack and find the synth inside, unconscious. Its rib cage was exposed and half its face was missing. They hold it up, put its arms around their necks and head back home. Luckily, Vault 121 wasn't far and they reached it in roughly an hour of walking without any further incidents, but exhausted from carrying their Overseer.

* * *

Another hour later, Jim was pacing nervously outside the robotics lab. The Vault's top scientists were working to put the synth back together, but early reports didn't show too promising. Apparently, they couldn't boot her up. The Overseer was in a deep sleep and they didn't know how to get her out of it.

 _What do you have in your hands?_

 _Just some stones from the river._

 _They are pretty..._

 _Do you ever think about death?_


	24. Sleeping Beauty

Jim waited three hours in front of the robotics lab to get any news about the Overseer. When a technician finally came out he was told the synth was in stable condition, but it's currently in a deep sleep and they don't know how to wake it. The young man let himself fall back on the bench that was right outside the lab. He felt completely hopeless. If only there was something he could do... But there wasn't. Jim was never the smart type. He never understood math or the need for it, but he was good at following orders and he had a kind, carrying heart, always helping others. As he raises his head, lost in his thoughts, the young security guard sees chief Frosst looking down on him.

"May I?" Frosst inquires, pointing at the bench.

"Sure," Jim nods.

"How is she?"

"Not good," Jim answers. "Well, she's stable, they said. But they can't wake her up. What are we going to do?"

Frosst looked at Jim. He was exhausted, worried out of his mind.

"I'm going to get a coffee from the vending machine. Would you like me to bring you anything?" Frosst asked.

"A Nuka, please. Thanks."

Frosst gets up and goes away, leaving the young security guard alone with his thoughts. Thousands of thoughts flashed through his mind. _Why is this happening again? What can I do? Why does she always have to get hurt for me to realize how much I care about her?_

His train of thoughts was interrupted by whispers in the background. Jim raises his head and sees people approaching. Lots of them. The young security guard instinctively reaches for his pistol, but quickly notices that the vault dwellers were advancing slowly, in a nonthreatening manner, and that they didn't carry any guns. They all looked gloomy, visibly distressed.

 _Wait... Are all these people here for the Overseer?_ Jim thought to himself. _Is this really happening?_

Jim pinched himself on the right arm, just to be sure. A rough man in a leather jacket, looking like a gang member, came closer. Jim twitched a little.

"Hey man, how is she feeling?" the man asks.

"Is she going to be alright?" another voice raises in the background.

Then another and another until Jim was so overwhelmed by the sudden attention that he raises both of his hands over his ears and crawls in a fetal position on the bench.

"What's the meaning of this?!" chief Frosst yells from around the corner. The crowd went silent.

"We just want to know if the Overseer is OK," an elderly woman spoke.

"She's... resting. She'll be alright, but it will take some time."

"Well... who will run the Vault? While she's resting I mean," another man inquires.

"I will," Frosst speaks up. "She assigned me to handle Vault business in case of emergencies. If you'd like to wait for news, please stay near the walls to keep this hallway clear... Please."

The crowd dispersed and cleared the corridor. Some people left, but lots of them stayed. They were clearly worried about their Overseer. Chief Frosst finished his coffee and prepares to leave.

"I'll come by later," he gently pats Jim on the shoulder. "Right now, I've got a Vault to run."

"Good luck with that," Jim forces himself to smile and waves as Frosst was moving away.

* * *

At 7 pm Jim went to take a shower and eat something. The night shifts started, so most people that came by this afternoon to check on the Overseer left too. Jim came back an hour later, and now was once again pacing back and forth in front of the robotics lab. The bulk door opened and chief Frosst came out to greet him.

"Any changes?" Jim asks.

"No," Frosst replies avoiding his eyes. He seemed hesitant for a few seconds, but finally asks, "Would you like to see her?"

"Yes, please," the young security guard nods, mentally thanking his superior. "I won't stay long."

"Feel free to stay as long as you like. There's nothing more they can do anyway."

Chief Frost stopped, realizing he shouldn't have said that. "If you need me, I'll be in my offi- Her office."

The young man enters the room cautiously and approaches the Overseer's pod. She was sitting upright in her special auto-doc. Her face was completely repaired, as well as the rest of her body. Everything looked normal, she looked like she was charging. Except... she won't wake up.

"Synthia..." the young man whispered. He quickly looks around the room to make sure no one was there, and then gently touches the synth's left cheek and moves its hair away from the face. _In the end, love is just a chemical reaction in the brain,_ Jim remembered. _Under the right conditions, love occurs no matter who the other person is._ It's what the Vault's shrink told him while they were having a 'hypothetical' discussion on whether a human being could ever fall in love with a synth or not.

"Please wake up..." Jim whispers and hugs the synth. He was starting to tear up, so he decided it's best to leave the room before anyone comes back and complicates things.

* * *

It's the second day, 7 am. Night shifts are over and new people are replacing those who are now going home to their families. Chief Frosst is still at his post, in the Overseer's office. He took naps here and there whenever he could, while dealing with a myriad of problems the entire night. _Are these people never sleeping? What the hell?_ Frosst screamed inside.

The Vault felt more alive than ever and the chief was quickly overwhelmed by everything that was happening. He remembered what the Overseer once told him about the Vault being like _a giant, well-oiled machine_. Everyone does their part, but it was the Overseer's job to make the machine work properly. The parts of the machine can't do whatever they want; they have to fall in line at all times. It was the toughest job in the Vault and, right now, Frosst didn't find any pleasure in trying to control the machine. _Everything is chaotic_ , he thought.

What was even more surprising to him is that people were okay following a machine, a robot. Well, most of them anyway. _So I guess, without the assurance of food and shelter, unless you're prepared to die in the wasteland, there's no other way but to come down here and work_ , Frost thought to himself. _No matter how depressed you are or how much you hate your job, you have to return to your routine, daily life in the Vault. Up there you'll only end up dying in vain, a dramatic death that isn't benefiting anyone. Down here at least we have a chance at life. For better or worse, we're all in this together. For the Overseer..._

Someone ringed the doorbell and pulled Frosst out of his thoughts. Before the chief could answer, the Overseer's young assistant rushes into the office.

"We've got riots in sector 15! People are unhappy about the water rations. Again..."

The young man sighs and waits patiently for an order from his superior.

"But it's seven in the morning for crying out loud! Dispatch security," Frosst finally says. "Tell them not to use weapons, only their batons."

The assistant bows and leaves the office as quickly as he came in. Frosst couldn't help but wonder how the Overseer was keeping all of this in check. Reports were coming in from literally everywhere, all night long. _A Vault of 40,000 souls it's impossible to handle by a human being_ , Frosst thought to himself. _I don't know what the hell I'm doing. You'd better get well soon, madam Overseer, or I'm going to lose it._

Chief Frosst frowned and looked at the monitor in front of him, trying to focus his thoughts on the next report: flood in sector 34. This day wasn't going to get any easier...


	25. After the Fall

Two months have passed since the Overseer fell deeply into a 'coma', for the lack of a better word. It wasn't a biological coma; it was more like a programming problem, one which the Vault's top scientists couldn't solve. Long story short, they couldn't boot her up. During this time, chief Frosst took over Vault duties and did his best to lead the people.

Jim was visiting the robotics lab three times a week; he looked miserable. The young security guard was sporting a rugged beard now, which wasn't planning on getting rid of anytime soon. He was assigned as the new Chief of Security, at least until the Overseer wakes up. _If she will ever wake up_ , Jim thought to himself. Today, **Overseer Frosst** organized a huge picnic outside the Vault. Everyone was happy and cheerful, everyone except Jim.

* * *

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Go ahead, Jim."

"This is not a good use of the teleporters, chief. Not to mention, it's dangerous."

"How many times do I have to tell you to address me as ' _Overseer_ ', Jim? Anyway, people need to see the sunlight once in a while, or else they'll feel trapped. They'll get desperate when they see no way out. This is for the best, trust me."

"Then send them to scavenge!" Jim almost yelled.

"Not everyone is brave enough to join the scavenge parties, Jim."

"But-"

"That's enough!" Frosst gives Jim an annoyed look.

The young security guard decided he said enough and that, no matter what arguments he would bring to the table, Overseer Frosst has already set up his mind. The clouds are drifting by above the mountain, like giant cotton wool pieces, not that Jim would know what a cotton wool was. That was something from before his time. Many things were, actually...

* * *

The sun is slowly going to sleep, a bloody red was filling the Wasteland and animal howls could be heard in the distance. The wind also howls eerily. Jim was waiting for the last vault dwellers to be teleported back into the Vault, when he noticed a group of people approaching from the West. Shortly after, his radio came to life.

"This is team Bravo returning with the Brotherhood chief scientist. Six to beam in. Over."

"Delay that order," Jim holds down the talk button. "I'll tell you when."

"Chief? What's going on?" the leader of the away team inquires over the walkie-talkie.

"I'll tell you when you get here, Julian. Over."

About a month ago, chief Frosst decided to send out a team to borrow the Brotherhood of Steel top scientist. Frosst wanted to make **one last try** to wake up the synth, before settling in as the permanent Overseer of Vault 121. He owed the synth that much.

Jim waited for the away team to reach his position and unexpectedly hugged their team leader. Julian backed away instantly, visibly uncomfortable.

"What was that for?" Julian snapped.

"It's your birthday today. Or you forgot? Happy birthday! I'm happy you're back. Also, you're late."

"Traffic," Julian smiled at his teammates.

When he blamed the traffic, Julian wasn't actually referring to cars or anything. There were hardly any working cars in the Wasteland, not to mention expensive as frak. No, he meant they were ambushed by raiders or synths, which usually resulted in delays. But Julian always got out unscratched from those nasty situations every time. He was a true survivor.

"Catch me later, I'll buy you a Nuka-Beer... _chief_."

"Don't you get snappy with me. I'll hold you to that," Jim returned the smile. "Teleport room, seven to beam in. Over."

* * *

An hour later, Phillip Shirley, Brotherhood of Steel's top scientist was staring at the 'sleeping' synth in the robotics lab. Jim was also present; he assigned himself as security guard for the Brotherhood scientist for the duration of his stay in Vault 121, despite the fact that the young man was currently the Chief of Security. There were lots of scientists gathered in the lab, and many VIPs as well. Phillip inquired, addressing no one in particular.

"How long has she been sitting there?"

"Two months," one of the scientists replies.

"Two months?! By Atom! And what have you been doing all this time?"

"Well, we tried everything. Even tried to modify to wake-up loop to receive remote directives from a terminal, but that didn't work either. Her brain just reprograms itself and denies all further attempts to change the internal code. It's like a living firewall!"

"Uhm..." Phillip gets lost in his thoughts for a whole minute. "How about a kiss to wake Sleeping Beauty?" he smiles and leans over the pod.

Chief Hendrick instantly grabs him by his shoulders. "What the frak are you doing?"

The young man heard the rumors about the Brotherhood's top scientist being a weirdo and doing the craziest things to achieve results with his research. I guess the rumors were true. Jim holds Phillip firmly, unsure how to proceed further.

"Relax," says the Brotherhood scientist, "I just want to reset the Auto-doc."

"Oh..." the young security guard lets go of Shirley.

The high-tech machine starts buzzing, powering down, then powering up. Meanwhile, strange code, unreadable to Jim, started scrolling up on its small display. Philip turns around to face the vault scientists.

"So you're telling me you tried ' _everything_ ', but none of you geniuses thought about resetting the pod?! Your Overseer is not like nowadays synths; you can't just brute force your way into her positronic brain. It doesn't work that way! She's a prototype, so the only way to troubleshot her, so to speak, is trough machine language instructions. Not through modern compilers, like you were trying to do. The Auto-doc can do that, you can't, 'cause you're all a bunch of idiots."

The Overseer opens her eyes and looks around surprised.

"So, I guess that wasn't a good idea," the synth says, referring to the moment when it stumbled upon that Enclave eyebot, which was actually the last thing it remembers. "Jim? What's wrong?"

A tear rolled down Jim's cheek and he wiped it away quickly with the back of his hand.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. I'm just happy to see you're finally awake."

"Finally? How long have I been out?"

"Two months," Jim whispers and sighs loudly.

"TWO MONTHS?! I'm sorry..."

"Are you, really?" Jim snapped. "Why do you never listen? Why do you always put yourself in harm's way?"

"Well, my work is here is done," Phillip intervenes. "Not gonna stick around and watch this lovers quarrel. I'll send you the bill later, now I'm gonna grab some sleep, it's been a long walk from the Citadel. Goodnight."

Jim was blushing, while the synth was looking at him curiously, still in its pod. It would still take a few minutes to regain its full motor functions.

"Welcome back, madam Overseer," chief Frosst approaches the pod. "It's good to have you back," he forces a smile.

"Thank you, chief Frosst. What are the news?"

The news of Overseer's miraculous recovery spread fast throughout the Vault and now everyone was trying to get into the lab to see her. Chief Frosst was however on top of it, dispatching security on the doors the second the synth woke up. Jim remained silent, watching the 'sleeping beauty' in her pod. His love for the synth was still strong. That love won't wither and die, not anytime soon...


End file.
